And to Us a Good Night
by Trinity Everett
Summary: Six months after their Vegas wedding, Kate and Rick get to tackle a new challenge: Christmas as newlyweds. Sequel to Waking Up in Vegas. A Caskett AU.


**And to Us a Good Night**

 **A Caskett AU**

 **Rated T**

 _This is for everyone who asked for a Christmas fic in the Waking Up in Vegas-verse. Thank you all for being amazing, wonderful, and so very supportive. I hope you like this._

* * *

"So that went well."

She can't help the heavy breath she releases, but she manages to cover most of it with the palm of her glove. Rick must hear it anyway, because he pauses his scarf adjustment to turn his attention to her.

"You don't think so?" he asks, his cobalt eyes widening under the rolled hem of the sock hat she had shoved his way on the way out of the restaurant. After seeing the tips of his ears turn bright red on the walk over, she knew he'd needed it more than she did. "I mean I didn't think it went _badly_. Your dad didn't fly across the table and strangle me or anything."

Kate winces. All in all, it hadn't gone badly. Both of her parents had been stunned by the news – the confession – that the man she had brought to dinner wasn't just her boyfriend, but her _husband_ , and that they had been married to for six months already, but she had expected that. She had even expected her mother's transition from astonished to excited the more Johanna talked to Rick, though the book had probably helped more than a little bit. Her father's reaction – or lack of – had been a bit more surprising, but she hopes maybe having a night or two to process the news will help.

Especially since Rick and his mother are coming for Christmas in just over a week.

"No, it didn't go badly," she agrees, stepping closer and toying with the ends of his scarf.

"But," he supplies, dusting a kiss along the curve of her cheek.

Kate shakes her head, slipping her arms around his neck, keeping him close. Her father will come around eventually; there's no reason to tell Rick that Jim's silence tonight had been more brooding than thoughtful, or that even at his most furious, her father would never come flying across a table to do him physical harm.

"No but," she promises. "Given the situation, it didn't go badly at all."

Her husband grins, taking the opportunity to press his mouth to hers, to sneak a kiss that is absolutely not suitable for the polite company they've just left, or even the general public. She's breathless and a little bit wobbly when he releases her, her fingers tight in his hair, her hips flush with his.

"I'm glad," he breathes against her mouth. "Ready to go home?"

"Uh huh."

She tucks herself into his side as they make their way toward his apartment in the village, passing bright, festive displays on every block. Her cheeks lift at some of the more extravagant ones, and she nudges Rick to show him, too, to share it with him.

By the time she had finished work for the year and packed her things to come home for break, most places had decorated for Christmas, but it just hadn't felt the same. It hadn't felt like home.

Her husband grins against her temple. "C'mon, I have a surprise for you."

"You do, huh?"

"Mhmm."

No doubt it's something holiday-related. He knows her mom loves to decorate, knows she has a fondness for it, too, even if she hides it underneath a layer of aloofness she hasn't quite managed to completely shake.

"Show me," she insists, tugging him along once again, her arm looped through his.

She sees the surprise – or knowing Rick, the first surprise – the moment they leave the elevator and start down his hall. His front door has been framed with crystal white lights, and a wreath bearing the Stanford logo has been placed around the peep hole.

It's adorable.

"You did this for me?" she murmurs, touching the string of lights as he slips his key into the lock and nudges the door open.

"Well, I usually decorate a little, but I couldn't resist the Stanford wreath. You're just lucky I didn't have the chance to put something that says 'Dean's List' or '4.0' on there, too."

Her cheeks burn. He had been more excited than her when her final grades came back.

"It's just first quarter, Rick, don't get too crazy."

He laughs, ushering her into his apartment – their apartment? At some point they're really going to have to figure these things out, aren't they? – and flipping a switch by the door. The light in the corner blinks to life, bathing the room in a warm glow, giving her a glimpse of more lights, the stockings hanging from one of the windows, one proudly bearing a swooping K and the other an elaborate R, as well as a small pile of boxes beside a bare tree.

She blinks, giving the room another slow look. "When did you do all this? I saw you just a couple of hours before dinner!"

Rick's hands frame her hips, his chest solid at her back. His nose nuzzles under her hair, brushing the spot behind her ear that never fails to make her shiver.

"I got started after you dropped your bag off and picked up the book. It's not done, obviously, but I figured we could do it together if you wanted. Or if you want to just sit and watch me work, that's fine, too. I am very nice to look at."

"No," she denies, spinning in his grip. "I want to help. I– you really got us a tree?"

"Of course I got us a tree," he scoffs, slipping his hands between them to unbutton her coat. She does the same for him, tossing his scarf and his hat in the general direction of a chair before letting him wiggle her sleeves down her arms and send her outerwear flying.

His fingers return to push the wild strands of her hair behind her ears before cupping her face between his palms. "First, it's Christmas. Second, it's _our_ first Christmas and I'm sentimental like that."

Lifting onto her toes, she brushes a kiss across his mouth, lets him feel the way excitement thrums through her veins. "Kay. Tomorrow I'll ask my mom for some ornaments to add, but for tonight… did you put up any mistletoe? Or do we need to do that?"

"Well," he hums, stealing another kiss – because who really needs mistletoe anyway? "I did find somewhere for the mistletoe, but it's not in this room."

"Hmm," Kate murmurs, pretending to consider his answer, "I think you better show me where it is."

His fingers curl around hers as he leads her to his bedroom.

* * *

"So," her mother asks a few days later, barely glancing up from the sale rack she's browsing. "Have you bought anything for Rick yet?"

Shifting her pile of potential presents, Kate grabs a deep blue sweater off the rack. If it's her husband's size, it will be the perfect finishing touch to his gift. That includes the things she'll wrap and put under the tree, as well as the things she absolutely won't be telling her mother about.

"I got him a few small things last week before I left California, but this – aha – this is the last of it. Now I'm just shopping for Dad."

The older woman nods. "Any idea what you want to get him?"

"Do they make 'Sorry I got married in Vegas and didn't tell you, Merry Christmas anyway' gifts?"

Johanna snorts, catching her eye over the top of the clothing. "He'll be fine eventually, sweetheart. He's just surprised. Hell, I'm surprised."

"Yeah, but you had a fangirl crush on my husband already. I bet you're itching to go back to work to tell everyone in your book club that you get inside info on his books now."

"Hush." Twin patches of color spread over her mother's cheeks, though, making Kate's smile deepen.

"By the way, thank you," she adds a second later, waiting until her mom looks up to continue, "For not freaking out. And for liking him. He's not everything the papers make him out to be, which I realize might be part of what's bothering Dad. But he's not that guy, not really. So thanks for being willing to give him a chance."

Her mother laughs. "I admit, I expected you to come home from your trip last summer having done something wild. I just thought it would be another tattoo instead of a husband."

She can't help the giggle that spills from her lips. "He's better than a tattoo. I can't necessarily say cheaper, though."

Johanna's lips lift. "Good."

"But part of why we didn't tell anyone was so we could be sure about each other. That's why we dated all summer and this fall before we said a word; we wanted to know it was… I mean it could still crash and burn, but we're not total strangers anymore. And I–"

"You love him."

Pulling her lip between her teeth, Kate nods. "Uh huh."

"And he loves you. That much was obvious the other night."

This time, it's her cheeks that heat up. It had been obvious the other night, the first time he'd ever told her he loves her, the first time she had told him, too.

"Yeah. He does."

Her mom nods, adding another shirt to her pile. "That's what matters. The rest you'll have to figure out for yourselves – and it won't be easy all the time – but that's what matters. Because you'll put in the work for one another."

Something loosens in her chest, some knot she hadn't even realize had been slowly tightening until the pressure has practically dissolved.

"Thanks, Mom. And he's so sweet and supportive. I mean, I showed you the picture of the wreath he put up. It's ridiculous, because he's on the bestseller list, and he put _my_ school colors on our door."

"He's proud of you."

"Yeah, but… bestseller list."

"Uh huh," Johanna answers, turning an amused look on her. "And are you proud of him for that?"

Well, duh. Of course she's proud. He's not even twenty-four and he's a bestselling novelist. He's smart, he's hardworking, he's hot, and he chose to stay married to her. He could be dating a full-time model or an actress or something, but he picked her.

Her mother nods knowingly. "That's what I thought. So let the boy who's gaga for you be proud of your accomplishments, Katie."

Yeah, she does kind of like the sound of that. "I draw the line at him telling strangers on the street that I made Dean's list."

Johanna laughs, slipping around the rack to join her. "As you should. Now, I think your father was talking about needing a new wallet and tie bar the other day. Why don't we try to find him those here?"

She nods, shifting the clothing in her arms and following her mother across the store.

"I was thinking about grabbing some lunch when we finish here. You should call Rick and see if he wants to meet us."

That makes her smile. Her mom's trying. "I would, but he's meeting his mom for lunch already. You're stuck with just me."

Johanna nods, poking through a ransacked pile of genuine leather wallets. "Have you met her? Rick's mother?"

Kate hesitates. "Kind of. She doesn't know about – she knows we're dating. I met her in August. By accident."

Her mother's face blanks. "Ah."

Oh god. She just implied to her mother that her mother-in-law caught her having sex with Rick. Fantastic.

"No, no. Not like… not like that."

Had Martha walked into Rick's apartment twenty minutes earlier, she wouldn't be able to say that, but they'd gotten lucky. They'd been very lucky. And yeah, okay, maybe they could've been wearing a _little_ bit more clothing, but they were dressed, and their hands were in relatively safe territory when the redhead waltzed through the door.

"We were just having breakfast and she came to Rick's place to pick something up. It was a quick introduction."

"So she doesn't know?" Johanna lifts an eyebrow. "Don't you think you should tell her? Before a major family holiday?"

Okay, her mom has a point. She can only imagine how different her own parents' reactions would've been if she had showed up on Christmas Eve with a husband and mother-in-law in tow. "I'll… hold these for me? Let me call Rick."

Snagging one of the deep mahogany bifold wallets from the stack, Kate passes her pile over to her mother. Johanna grumbles, but the lift of her lips says she isn't bothered by the sudden addition to her load.

Rick answers on the third ring, greeting her with a honeyed warmth that has Kate licking her lips. It's absurd to want him this badly, this often, but she doesn't know how to make it stop. She doesn't want to make it stop.

"Hey," she breathes, clearing her throat. "Have you left for lunch with your mom yet?"

She hears papers shuffling, the squeak of his desk chair, and she pictures him sitting at the desk nestled in the corner of the apartment. "Ah, no. Not yet. I'm about to, though."

"Oh, okay good. Good. 'Cause my mom asked me if your mom already knew about us and if we really thought it was wise to wait until you guys came over on Christmas to tell her. So I was wondering if you wanted to tell her today instead?"

Her husband exhales. "I thought about that after you left. Because while my mother _does_ love a bit of drama, that might be too much. So I have a plan."

Plans are good. She likes plans. "Yeah?" she asks, twisting a strand of hair around her index finger before realizing what she's doing. How love-struck and giddy she must look.

"Christmas Eve? Before you go to your mom and dad's for the night, I thought we could have her over and tell her then, just us. I've got a gift in mind and everything."

Kate stops, blinking in surprise. "A gift?"

Rick chuckles. "Yeah. I framed that picture from the football game in October, and I figured we'd give that to her, and then tell her the second part of the gift is the daughter-in-law sitting across from her."

That's actually really thoughtful. Sweet, humorous, with just a touch of the drama Rick swears his mother lives for.

"I love that."

"Yeah?" he preens. Even over the phone she knows he's preening. "I'm sorry I didn't think of it before we had dinner with your parents."

Kate laughs, dipping her head. That probably wouldn't have made the reveal any less shocking, but it would've been fun. "That's okay. But oh, can you get extra copies of that picture?"

"Uh huh."

"Stocking stuffers for them, maybe?" She sways, glancing in her mother's direction.

Her mother will love the photo. It's sickeningly cute – Kate tucked against Rick's shoulder with her fingertips pressed to his jaw, her wedding ring visible for all to see – but somehow it's genuine and gorgeous.

"That's a great idea. Done."

She grins. "Thanks, babe. Get ready for lunch. I'll see you later."

"Kay," he says. "Have fun with your mom."

"You, too," she answers, waiting a mere half-second before adding, "I love you."

Rick doesn't even miss a beat. "I love you, too."

She hangs up, flipping her phone closed once she's sure the line has been released. Johanna steps over to join her a second later, lifting an eyebrow as she hands Kate's potential purchases off to her once again.

"Well?"

"New plan," Kate says, breathing deeply. "We're going to spring it on her on Christmas Eve."

"Oh." Her mother's brow furrows. "Well… good?"

A laugh falls from her mouth. "She's coming over for presents, maybe a late lunch, and we're going to tell her then. But I'll be home for dinner and everything," she hastens to add.

Johanna softens, winding an arm around her shoulders. "I wasn't worried, Katie."

"I know." It comes out too quickly to be believed, but her mother doesn't call her on it. Her lip finds its way between her teeth, a question poised on her tongue. "That's another thing that we're going to need to figure out, isn't it? How to do Christmases and holidays?"

"Ah, Katie," her mother hums, "welcome to married life. It's all about figuring this stuff out. When your dad and I were first married, your grandmothers almost came to blows trying to claim us for Christmas. It was not pretty."

"Oh god. Please don't do that. Ever."

Johanna laughs, squeezing her. "Come on, let's get out of here and get some food."

Kate nods in agreement. "But ah, first I need to pick up something for my mother-in-law."

* * *

Christmas Eve at the Beckett house is always a quiet affair. Some years they go to a party, or find a church service to attend, but for the most part, they stay home and enjoy the warmth. This year is no different; Kate slips into the house as mid-afternoon gives way to evening, shedding her coat and scarf and trying to adjust to the quiet compared to the busy street and the whirlwind lunch she'd just left.

Rick's mother had laughed at them. Not chuckled in amusement or snickered delicately into her hand. No, Martha had laughed deep, full laughter that made the bracelets on her wrists knock together in a noisy sort of harmony before she pulled them both close and kissed their cheeks.

 _"For the last six months, Richard, I have never seen you happier," Martha had said, her voice strong and clear over the soft refrains of Christmas music coming from Rick's stereo. "Who am I to disagree with that? No matter how unconventional the circumstances."_

She had gone on to push Kate's hair away from her forehead, telling her she had liked her from the moment they met.

And that the cat had been out of the bag for exactly that long, because they'd both been wearing their wedding rings that day.

Oops.

"Mom? Dad?" Kate calls, shaking herself from her thoughts. "I'm home."

"In here," comes from the living room, encouraging her deeper into the house. Her father looks up from his book when she steps into the room, offering her a quick smile. She returns the affection, dropping her bag and sinking onto the plush chair beside him.

"How was your lunch?" Jim murmurs, turning his page with a steady hand.

Kate rests her head on his shoulder, feeling his stoicism soften as she settles in. "It was good. Martha loved the smoked salmon you made."

"Good," he says, offering nothing more for a long moment. "And Rick?"

She sees her mom's lips lift, no doubt holding in Johanna's favorite phrase of them all. She won't say it yet, it is still too soon for 'I told you so's, but Kate knows she's itching to let it out.

"He's good. He says hi, and he'll bring his famous Christmas brownies to dinner tomorrow."

Her father nods, thoughtful. "What's he doing tonight?"

Surprised, Kate lifts her head. "I… he's just hanging out, he said. Doing some writing before he gets behind. His mom had something to do for a little while, but then she said she would be back."

"Ah," he hums.

She watches her parents exchange a look, watches the way her mother's eyes flare wider in insistence.

Finally, her father closes his book, turning to her. "Call him, Katie."

"Huh?" She blinks, pulling away to stare at him. "But I thought… you wanted it to just be us tonight?"

Jim shakes his head, drawing her into a hug. Kate sinks against him, pressing her nose into the warm cotton of his sweater.

"I'm still wondering what possessed you to get married to a complete stranger and then _stay_ married to him, but you care about Rick, and it's more than obvious that he cares about you. So he's not going to spend Christmas Eve alone."

Breath seizing in her chest, Kate hugs her father tightly. "Thank you, Dad. I know it's insane, I know, but I think – no I know – you'll like him."

Jim kisses her temple, rubbing a hand down her back. "I just don't want you to get hurt. That's all. Remember that awful musician you only dated at first to spite me? How badly things ended with him?"

She snorts. "I remember. Vividly. It's not like that with Rick."

"Better not be," Jim grumbles, wrapping her up again after she fishes her phone from her purse and fires off a text to Rick.

"It isn't. And I told him to bring Martha if she's there, too. I don't want his mom to be by herself either."

She also told Rick to bring clothes to spend the night, but she'll refrain from mentioning that to her dad for the moment.

After all, it's better to ease him into the fact that she'll have a boy sleeping in her bed tonight.

Rick and his mother are both smiling broadly when she opens the door to them almost an hour later, though her husband's expression is soft with affection as well.

"Hey," she greets, already stepping aside to let them slip into the house and out of the blistering wind. "Sorry to change plans on you like that, but–"

Martha waves her apology away, stepping forward to kiss her cheeks. "Thank you for having me, Katherine. And having me tomorrow too. Do your parents know what they're getting themselves into?"

Kate laughs, returning her mother-in-law's affection. "To be honest with you, Martha, I don't think they've put two and two together yet about who you are, so I'm not sure they do."

Behind them, Rick chuckles. "Feeding her ego, good plan," he teases, slipping his arm around Kate's waist and pressing his lips to her cheek. "Hi again," he adds.

"Hi. Did you bring clothes?"

Rick nods, twisting so she can see the messenger bag on his shoulder, as well as the plastic grocery bags in his free hand. "I did. And I brought the ingredients to make the brownies. Mother said she's going to go home, and if she's still welcome, come back tomorrow."

"You'll still be welcome," she assures, taking half of the bags and leading her husband and his mother down the hall. "I'll introduce you and then I'll put everything down."

She can't help the glee that bubbles from her lips as her parents' eyes go wide when they realize that Rick's actress mother is none other than Martha Rodgers, TV actress and Tony Award nominee.

"Dad loved you in _The Incredible Hulk_ , Martha," she murmurs, turning a cheeky smile in her star struck father's direction. "I'll let you guys talk; we're going to put the groceries away."

Reaching behind her, she finds Rick's hand, curls her fingers around his, and gives him a gentle tug toward her bedroom first. The motion knocks him off-balance, but he just laughs, following her without a word of protest.

"You're a little devious," he murmurs as they step into her room. "I love it."

She slips his bag from his shoulder, letting it land in the center of her bed with a delicate bounce.

"It distracted them, didn't it?" Kate asks, looping her fingers in his belt loops and bringing him closer. His nose brushes hers, still chilled from being outside, but his mouth is warm when he opens to her, allows her to taste the coffee on his lips.

"And you get to see my bedroom for the first time," she adds, bumping his hips with hers. "Whatcha think?"

Her husband hums against her lips. "I think it is everything I thought it would be. Right down to the _Nebula 9_ poster," his voice lifts higher in amusement, not question, forcing her to hide her face in his shoulder.

"I knew I should've taken that down after I texted you," Kate grumbles.

"No, no, Kate. That is _amazing_. In fact, it makes me love you more."

Her eyes narrow. He's not a fan and they both know it. "Keep mocking me, buddy, and maybe you _won't_ be sleeping in here."

Rick gasps, thumbing her hip. "I would never mock you. Not for being a big ol' _Nebula 9_ mega-fan."

"Shut up," she orders, poking his chest with a firm finger. "Or I won't show you my new Lieutenant Chloe cosplay."

She pulls away, leaving him gaping at her back.

"You are _so_ hot," he mumbles, following her on eager feet, catching her free hand as she crosses the threshold into the hallway. "And hey, you know there's a convention coming up? If you don't have anything due that weekend or right after, you wanna get tickets and go?"

It's tempting. "Here? Or in California?"

Rick lifts a shoulder. "Here, but I can get your plane ticket."

"You got my last one," she reminds him, half chiding. Yes, it's nice to be able to come back to New York for short weekend jaunts, and it's nice to go out on the town in San Francisco when Rick is in California, but he can't pay for _everything_. Not when she can't return the gesture as easily.

"And that weekend was also my idea."

"Rick," she exhales, making a beeline for the kitchen to deposit the bags on the counter. "Get the convention tickets. I'll get the plane ticket."

He drops a kiss on her shoulder. "How 'bout we do it the other way around? You get the con tickets; I'll get the plane ticket." Off her protest, he adds, "You'd have to work so much harder than I do to make that money, Kate. Let me treat you."

Twisting, Kate gives him a long look. He's serious. But so is she. She can't just sponge off of him because they're married.

Reaching for him, her hands frame his sides. Her chin lifts, eyes catching his, making sure he's paying attention.

"I don't want to take advantage of you, your money. That's not why I'm with you."

"You're not, I'm offering," Rick insists, cupping her shoulders through her sweater.

"But I am if I always say yes, and I never give anything in return."

Her husband kisses her forehead. "You give me so much in return, Kate. Besides, I could spend the money on stuff for us, or I could spend the money on more Star Wars collectables. Seeing you seems like a much better choice."

"You're sure?" she asks, tightening her fingers in the cashmere of his sweater.

"That I selfishly want to see my wife?" Rick grins when she does. "Yes, I'm very sure."

Lifting onto her toes, she seals her mouth to his. "Okay. On one condition."

Rick hums, slipping his hands down her arms, drawing her closer to his chest. "Anything."

"You cosplay as Captain Max."

Her husband groans, but agrees. She simply grins, turning back to empty the bags.

They're in the process of putting Rick's brownie supplies away, stealing kisses for every ingredient, when Martha calls for them to – in her words – stop canoodling in the kitchen and join them.

Kate's cheeks darken, but she hears both of her parents laugh (though her mother's amusement is louder and clearer than her father's) at Martha's words.

"Canoodling," she murmurs, looking up to find Rick shaking his head.

"I could've left her at home," he says, though the gleam in his eye tells her he's joking. From everything she's seen, he has an interesting relationship with his mother, but Kate knows he loves Martha like crazy.

"Yeah," she agrees, stretching onto her toes to kiss him. "But you wouldn't have."

His hand falls to the small of her back, keeping her steady. "Yeah? How do you know?"

"Because it's Christmas. And you want this to go well." Kate smiles, dusting her mouth over his again. "Even if it involves them making jokes at our expense."

His face brightens with his smile. "I guess you're right."

"Course I am," she hums, sinking into the kiss he presses to her lips. "Now why don't we take them drinks and some snacks to tide them over until dinner is ready, and we can sit and enjoy our Christmas Eve?"

Rick nods, slipping his thumb over the shell of her ear before both of his hands fall away from her body and he grabs the bottle of red wine he had brought. "Perfect."

"And then later on, more canoodling," she adds, biting her lip and wiggling her eyebrows. "In private."

"Merry Christmas to us," Rick singsongs, pouring five glasses of wine with a deft hand.

"And to us a _good_ night," Kate finishes on a grin, lifting the first two glasses from the counter and delivering them into the living room, trusting her husband to follow.


End file.
